The Hunted
by j3nnee
Summary: Neal and Peter pretend to be rich hunters to find a killer. Based loosely off "The Most Dangerous Game" which is a famous short story everyone and their dog has copied at one time or another. Whumpage, hurt, comfort and all the rest of it.
1. Chapter 1

**The Hunted  
=========**

**(Saturday)**

Neal Caffrey woke to an annoying buzzing sound. He reached out from under the covers and hit the snooze button but that didn't stop it. He felt outside the warmth of his duvet, feeling atop the nightstand till he found his cell phone and pulled it underneath the covers. There was a beep as he answered it.

"Peter... it's Saturday." Neal's voice sounded sleepy if not a bit testy.

"_Sorry Neal but work calls. Meet me out front in about an hour. I'll explain what's going on._" Peter's voice was a bit sleepy as well, Neal grunting in reply as he hung up and pushed his head out from under the covers. It was 7 am. Neal cursed slightly, pulling the blankets aside as he replaced his cell on the nightstand and sat up. He yawned and stretched, running a hand through his hair before pushing himself to his feet and standing.

"What kind of work calls a man out of bed at 7 am on a Saturday?" Neal mumbled as he entered the bathroom and started his shower.

**()()()**

Peter was good to his word being out front when Neal strode downstairs and out to the Taurus. He heard the pop of the lock and opened the door, slipping inside the car. He had a paper cup of coffee in one hand and a small silver looking thermos in the other. He passed the latter to Peter.

"Compliments of June. She gave me a funny look when I came down fully dressed so early." He took another sip of his coffee, Peter opening up the thermos for his own taste of ambrosia, then continued.

"So what is this work related assignment that requires us do double duty on Saturday?" Neal leaned back in the seat and slumped sleepily, fedora pushed over his sun-glassed eyes. Peter grunted till he had sipped some of the coffee and smiled slightly.

"Undercover assignment. We get to go camping and hunting." Peter shrugged, pulling the Taurus into the FBI lot and parking in his spot. Neal made a face.

"Outdoorsy stuff? I don't think I'm going to like this assignment." His voice had a slight petulant tone to it like a child who just found out he was being sent to military camp. Peter grinned again as they exited the vehicle and walked over to the elevator.

"It will be fun. We can bond. Do guy stuff. Get some fresh air out of the city." Peter held the door as Neal walked inside and he followed, pushing the floor for the FBI offices. Neal glanced at the agent with an unhappy look.

"There are animals out there... bugs... mosquitoes. I'm not fond of any of those things beyond domesticated pets." Neal leaned back against the elevator railing, fedora flipped down over his eyes. Peter pushed the hat up and peered at the young man.

"Cowboy up, Neal. I'm not much for camping either but if it's necessary..." The elevator chimed, interrupting Peter and they exited the car and walked through the glass doors into the main lobby. It was empty except for a few people including Jones. Neal stopped off at his desk by the door and dropped off his hat and grabbed up a small notepad and pen before following Peter upstairs to his office where Hughes was waiting outside. The older agent and head of the department smiled at the two men.

"Good to see you both. Shall we get down to business?" Hughes sounded a little less chipper than usual which made his usual grouchy self sound grouchier. Everyone followed him, including Jones who came trotting up a few minutes later. The four of them filed into the conference room and sat down. Hughes passed out folders to everyone, Neal immediately twirling his boredly. Hughes glanced at him with a disapproving look before continuing.

"This is going to be an undercover case for Burke and Caffrey. You are going to pose as a couple of hunters. A man was killed for insider information but the authorities think it was an accidental shooting since it was during a hunting expedition at the lodge mentioned inside the folder." Hughes glanced at the three agents who all began to open their folders, even Neal. Hughes smiled.

"I especially want Caffrey to be involved with this assignment for reasons you'll see once you read the full case file." Hughes stern look made the young con gulp slightly, Neal reading the folder and blinking. He looked up at Hughes after he had sifted through the file and saw the agent smiling broadly at him. Neal grinned back with a look of surprise.

"Wow... I can see why you want me to do this. I think I'm going to like '_roughing' it_." He gazed at Peter who was rolling his eyes and smirking back sarcastically. Peter coughed, flipping to one page and looking up at Hughes.

"So this is a hunting lodge full of rich men and those of influence out to brag and pretend to _rough_ it. What exactly is the content of the insider info that was stolen? What are we looking for?" Peter flipped through the folder and pulled out a picture of the victim, one Terrance T Mortimeyer, III. He had been tortured and subsequently hunted down and shot dead according to forensics. The idea of what happened to Mr. Mortimeyer made Peter wince and turn the page to read the rest of the data. Neal looked at his partner curiously.

"It was stock information about the man's business. He worked for a major pharmaceutical company." Hughes replied, continuing.

"There have been two other cases of the same kind of incident but nothing could be proved. In both instances, it appeared the person died of exposure or had been attacked or mauled by an animal. This is the first that involved a gun and a supposed accidental shooting. That's why we're getting involved." Hughes sounded adamant all the agents nodding.

"Neal, you know this kind of environment. I want you to help pick out provisions under Peter's supervision. Jones, you'll serve as backup, behind the scenes."

**()()()**

**(The following Wednesday)**

Neal woke up in a cold sweat, his arms aching from where he hung from the rafters above. His feet barely touched the floor, also bound and spread enough he couldn't get comfortable. He swallowed despite the rag stuffed in his mouth, and tape pulled over his lips. Neal turned his head and saw Peter in the same condition hanging from the rafters near him, a large red stain on his white polo shirt. The agent didn't move, face pale, eyes sunken looking as Neal tried to make noise to get his attention. Peter's face twitched slightly after a moment but that was it. Neal could see no other reaction as he hung there, arms aching, hands numb from the wiry cord holding him in place. He gave a quick look around as much as he could, seeing the wooden logs of the cabin they were tied up in. The cabin was mostly bare except for one boarded window, an empty hearth, and a door across the room that was currently closed. The room was freezing, Neal's eyes returning to the hearth as he wished it was filled with a warm glow.

The cabin door swung open at some point, three men entering the cabin with masks. One of them saw Neal was awake and smiled. Neal shivered at the grin, knowing nothing good could come from it. He gave a muffled protest as the man approached, taser in hand. He cut the young man's shirt open and started to push the taser against his bare skin. Neal squirmed and thrashed, a muffled groan of agony coming from his throat. He turned despite the pain as the other two men approached Peter's unconscious form.

"Awwww... he's concerned for his friend. You should worry about yourself, Mr. Halden. You're about to become a part of the hunt. You'll feel the thrill of the prey; feel the terror as your heart races and your mind darts like the deer being pursued." The man's voice was cruel and dark, Neal blinking at him as he thought about the sickness in this man's mind. The man just smiled at him and tased him once again, Neal slumping more against his bonds. He was only vaguely aware of the other two men pulling Peter from the rafters and dragging him outside, his blue eyes following the scene.

"He'll be safe till we finish with you and send you both out into the field. Your secrets will be ours and you'll be free to be pursued by the hunter. It will be glorious!" The man raised Neal's face to his, his hand holding the young man's chin. Neal stared into those dark green eyes and made a muffled protest, glaring back. The man smiled.

"You just don't know when to give in, do you? I hate you Ivy League types. Think everyone owes you something." The man pulled out a syringe and Neal watched with wide-eyes as liquid squirted out of it.

"I should leave the bubbles, quicker that way but not as effective for talking."

**()()()**

**(The previous Sunday)**

Neal had helped Peter find some adequate items, clothing and gun-wise in the evidence room with them going to a local shop to buy a few extra '_provisions_' necessary to fit in. Neal felt right at home with the rich man's hunting lodge kind of vibe while Peter was wishing it was more of a _roughing it_ sort of deal. In the end, they tried on their wares and looked about as authentic as possible. Neal was going to use his _Nick Halden_ persona while Peter had one in his repertoire by the name of _Jared Simkins_. Neal and Peter went to a local etiquette specialist mostly for Peter's sake but Neal had to go as support. They both passed with flying colors so they would fit into the upper echelon as they made their way through the case.

Monday was the big day, a Mercedes borrowed from evidence brought in so Peter and Neal would look like the real deal. Jones would not be joining them but he would be nearby listening in through a wire with a few other agents as backup in case anything happened. Neal's anklet was removed but they both had micro-buttons on their collars that matched enough to not be seen should they need to be tracked.

They showed up at the lodge near the Hamptons, lots of large foreign cars and limos in their wake. They were not the only invited hunters on the list apparently. Neal popped out of the Mercedes wearing a pair of dark corduroy slacks over black leather boots like you wear for hiking. He wore a tan sweater tucked in with a dark oil skin hunter's jacket over it all. He had a small carry all satchel slung over his left shoulder and walked around to help Peter unload.

Peter was whispering to him as they looked furtively around and took stuff out of the trunk.

"It's like a parade of you! No wonder Hughes wanted you to come along." He grinned at his friend who just smirked back.

"See, and you say I look like a cartoon. Shows you not to throw stones." He stuck out his tongue, the agent giving a mock look of disappointment when they heard a cough from near by.

"Hello! You must be Mr. Simkins and Mr. Halden, correct?" The man that spoke was dressed in the traditional English riding wear as if he stepped out of an old portrait. He couldn't be much older than Neal but he was distinguished looking with a slight accent. Peter nodded with a smile trying to act aloof, watching Neal who just stood and leaned back against the car bumper and looked the man over.

"Yes, we are. Jared Simkins, _Moriegan Tech_. This is my colleague, Nick Halden. You are?" Peter held out his hand, the man taking it with a jaunty shake that made the agent want to grin. Neal held out his hand as he stood up from the vehicle and smiled in his own aloof manner.

"Darryl Oppmeier, Lodge President and CIO of Oppmeier, Ltd. It's so nice to finally meet you. You came highly recommended for this group. I'm so sorry to hear of your divorce." Oppmeier seemed sincerely concerned, Neal hiding his smirk as Peter remembered his comment about what the Mercedes represented.

"Yes, she couldn't take my working till all hours and traveling. I recently returned from Safari. Fantastic atmosphere!" Peter saw Neal hide more of a grin as he picked up some items and started to carry them, Oppmeier calling a valet to help them.

"You didn't bring your own valets? Most of the lodge members have their own people." He was looking at them oddly now, Peter smiling with a shrug.

"We wanted to rough it just this once. Get some privacy from the staff and work. What better way than hunting?"

**()()()**

Once settled in their room and the valets had left, Neal smiled as he watched Peter let loose from the snobby facade they had put on and lay back on his bed and sighed.

"I feel like I just hurt myself smiling so damn much. And the lying... wow. I don't know how you keep up with it all, Neal. I can barely remember my own name much less all these rules of etiquette. I take back anything I said about your life being easy." He turned and saw Neal smiling back at him.

"See, conning isn't all the elementary school pranks you make it out to be." He grinned, flipping off his shoes and laying back on the bed with his fedora over his face. Peter watched him a moment before easing back against his own pillows and passing out.

When Peter woke up some time later, he turned to speak to Neal but found the young man gone. He checked the suite which was luxuriously huge and found no sign of his partner anywhere. He started to worry maybe Neal had gotten himself into some trouble when he heard a key in the lock and the door opened. Neal stood there with a tray of food in his hand, easing into the room backwards and letting the door close on its own.

"Hey, Jared... I brought you some snacks. They were having a little poker match. I cleaned up." Neal smiled, flashing a few bills as he placed the tray on the nightstand between their two beds. Peter frowned slightly.

"I hope you did it legally." His voice was somewhat chiding as he looked over the scrumptious tray of food Neal had brought back for him. He wasn't sure where to start first and he was hungry. Neal sighed, flopping back onto the bed.

"You can't just be positive about it. Besides, I got some nice dirt on people as we played. It was rather useful." He flipped the bills noisily before pushing them back into his pocket and turning his head to look at Peter who had started picking at the food.

"So what kind of _dirt_ did you get?" Peter's voice was slightly muffled as he took small bites of this and that from the tray. Neal grinned turning to his side and facing the agent.

"Well, I found out Mr. Oppmeier has three mistresses... The man next to us to the right has a habit of embezzling from his company 401K fund. His name is Antony Donviel of _Donviel Automotive_." Peter nodded as he continued to eat, listening and taking mental notes.

"Good work, Nick. So... anything on the people involved with Mr. Mortimeyer's death? I know there were eyewitnesses and people of interest. Donviel being one of them. There were two others... I'm trying to think what their names were." Peter stopped his food fest a moment as his face became thoughtful, interrupted by Neal's recitation.

"Alfred Donne and Murray Heath. They're business partners in a joint venture something like _Virgin Airlines_ but on a smaller scale. New money." He reached over and grabbed a cracker with what appeared to be caviar on it. Peter had been avoiding it but Neal ate it up.

"Right... right... The company was called _Serif_, I think. Both men like to travel and especially hunt on safari and wherever they can find a place to shoot. They sound like the perfect suspects." Peter wiped at his mouth with a napkin, taking a sip of water. He was still thinking about something. Neal stared at the agent and smiled.

"So, what's the plan? Donne and Heath are down the hall on the next parallel corridor and Oppmeier is in one of the front suites near the entrance since he's President of the Lodge. I could do a little unofficial digging..." He saw the look on Peter's face.

"Don't even think about it, Nick. We've only just gotten here and we can't afford to screw up this quickly. Jones is nearby as backup but not sure how fast he can make it if we mess up so soon. Understand?" Peter glared at Neal who finally just held up his hands in surrender and nodded.

"Ok ok... I won't do anything unofficial but if they invite me in... well that's another story." He left it at that, his manner playful, Peter just sighing at his partner.


	2. Chapter 2

**(Chapter 2)**

Neal woke up to the sound of someone arguing in the next room. He couldn't quite hear what was said but by the sound of the muffled voices, someone wasn't happy. Neal turned to see Peter out like a light, a soft snore escaping the agent's lips. Neal thought about waking him up but knew Peter was exhausted after they had gone out earlier and socialized with the rest of the hunters till the wee hours.

He had to admit that Peter was good at picking up _tells_ and getting into character. Neal was surprised how much Peter fit in with the rest of the hunters, young and old although the oldest man in the group couldn't be more than 50ish. That was Tony Donviel, the man who's voice was speaking angrily next door. Neal got up quietly and padded over to the wall and stuck his ear to it.

"_I say we ask them to join the hunt tonight. I don't think they get along as well as they appear to._" Another voice, not Donviel's said. Neal could hear someone pacing slightly, footsteps traveling back and forth across the lightly carpeted floors.

"_We don't know the full story about their relationship. I talked to him briefly and he seems a reasonable man and has a soft spot for his colleague. He may just agree but there's something else there. I found him watching his partner like a hawk so he's worried about something. Let's not push it till we're sure._"

Neal turned when he heard a voice behind him.

"What are they saying? I couldn't hear much of anything." Peter's voice was soft in the darkness, the sound of the bed creaking as he moved ever so slightly. Neal moved away from the wall quietly and sat down on the edge of his bed looking in the dark at his partner, his voice hushed.

"I'm not really sure. They're talking about asking someone to join a hunt. Sounds like it's by invite only. The person they were talking about doesn't get along with their partner, or so the other man thinks. Donviel seems a bit less sure about this person they were mentioning." Neal saw the shadowy form of Peter sit up and look over at him in the darkness.

"Well until we know who and what, let's get some sleep. I got along with Donviel last night so I'll see what I can find while you work on the others." Peter's voice was quiet with just a hint of sleepiness. Neal nodded, curling back under the covers as he continued to listen to the voices next door.

**()()()**

Neal was having a nightmare. He was remembering a past memory he had pushed away. He had been in Eastern Europe and making his escape from an estate he had just robbed. Technically, Neal had been a guest but he was escaping into the night with his prize, a _Fabergé_ egg. He thought he was free and clear till they caught him and dragged him back. His inside man had turned him in and they had made sport of him, chasing him through a stone maze till he had found a way out and escaped. It had not been one of his better moments in thieving and one he would rather forget.

"Come on out, Terry. We want to see our scared little deer." Neal could hear Androv's mocking voice within the maze, the sound of a rifle being cocked, echoing throughout. He shivered at the memory, someone touching his shoulder from behind.

"Neal..." Peter's voice woke him up, his friend's hand on his shoulder gently shaking him. Neal looked blearily around him remembering where they were.

"Wake up, it's time to go meet up with the other hunters." Peter's voice was soft, his brown eyes looking at Neal curiously.

"Sure, just give me a moment." Neal pulled the covers aside and push himself out of bed. He was still thinking about the dream when he felt Peter's eyes still on him.

"What?" Neal thought Peter looked like he wanted to say something, the agent shrugging.

"Sorry, just... nevermind. Let's get dressed."

**()()()**

Neal wore some dark brown corduroy pants with his hiking boots from the day before. His shirt was a warm sueded blue cotton button up shirt over a black fleece tee and his dark oil skin hunter's jacket on top. Peter wore a warm pair of black jeans, brown timberland hiking books with a fleece fitted dark blue sweater and his own tan oil skin hunter's jacket. They looked the part of two rich hunters out for a day of leisure. They walked into the main foyer that made June's own hall look rather tiny, a large hearth the size of a small bedroom giving off a rosy glow of flames. Several cloth and leather sofas and chairs were spread in groups around the room with small walnut tables on the end or in the middle. Several men were already seated in the room with small plates of breakfast from the buffet in the corner and cups of coffee or tea. Neal and Peter made their way to the buffet line and started to fill up a plate with food. Immediately Oppemeier walked over and greeted the two men. He was dressed in a suit reminiscent of an English gentleman of the 1930s.

"Good to see you were both able to wake up so early. You'll be able to see how the hunt is run as observers today. On the next trip, you'll be able to join in. Let me know if you have any questions." Neal and Peter nodded, Oppemeier leaving them to talk to a few of the other members. Peter scouted out a small seating area with some comfy leather chairs and sat down waving Neal over. Peter leaned close and whispered.

"So what do you think? Any vibes yet? Those two over there seem anxious enough." Peter motioned with his eyes at Donne and Heath who were furtively glancing around while whispering with one another. Neal shrugged.

"No clue. Still too early but Donne was a bit upset I beat him at poker last night. Donne's not one who's used to losing. Heath, he's a bit harder to read. Good poker face. Mostly why I quit while I was ahead." Neal took a bite of the omelet he had put on his plate, pouring a bit of salsa on it from a small cup. Peter sipped at his coffee, his face looking more and more animated with each sip. Neal grinned, looking up as a shadow fell over their table. A tall distinguished looking gentleman between 45 and 50 looked down at the two. He had raven black hair, straight and cut short, with olive toned skin and bright green eyes. The man wore a khaki hunter's outfit with dark brown boots tucked underneath and a black duster like jacket over it all. He smiled down at Peter giving a brief but polite glance over at Neal.

"Mr. Halden and Mr. Simkins. Nice to see you again." He held out his hand and Peter took it as he stood up. Donviel did not offer his hand to Neal who just remained sitting as he felt the snub but ignored it. Donviel stood there looking as if waiting for something when Peter made a motion for him to sit with them. The man sat near Peter and smiled with that false grin of his.

"So I hear you will be observers on this hunt. I think you will find it quite fascinating once you learn the logistics of the group. We hope you will join us tonight?" His question was to Peter, his eyes on the agent as he ignored Neal who continued to eat his omelet and some fruit on his plate, watching and observing. Peter nodded with a curious glance to Donviel.

"I'm curious what's so secret about this hunt at night. Oppmeier doesn't ask everyone to join I noticed." Peter leaned in towards the man with a secretive look. Donviel made his voice barely a whisper, Neal had to really try to hear what was said between the man and his partner.

"No, not everyone is invited officially. Let's just say, those with excess baggage have first call." Donviel smiled in a cryptic sort of way, standing and looking at them both.

"I've taken up your time and the hunt is nearly upon us. I'll let you gentlemen finish your breakfasts and see you outside." He smiled again, his eyes seemingly sizing Neal up a moment before he gave a small wave and left them. Something wasn't right here.

"I'm getting a bad vibe, Jared." Neal felt the hair on the back of his neck rise up when the man had looked at him. Peter blinked and shook his head.

"Donviel? I'll keep an eye out on him. He seems to like me. You watch the people from _Serif_. Ok? Well figure this out." Peter picked up his plate and coffee cup, taking one last sip as he moved towards the buffet line again to return it. Neal continued to sit, watching Peter as he walked away and only turning when someone tapped him from behind. It was Heath. Neal blinked at the man who whispered quietly to him.

"You're in danger. Meet me during the hunt at the back of the jeep." The man took off immediately as Neal made to ask him what was up but he had already left. Peter came back and looked at his partner curiously.

"What was that about?" Peter remained standing as Neal stood with his plates and cup and walked over to the buffet to return the dishes. He shrugged.

"No clue but he said I was in danger."


	3. Chapter 3

**(Chapter 3)**

The hunt was truly something different. Neal wasn't sure if he approved of the methods. He watched Peter talking with Donviel who sat and explained their group. The man had opted out of the hunt to talk to Peter and chat him up. Neal felt the snub again, seeing Heath and moving to the back of the Jeep, acting like he was stretching his legs.

"I'm not a _PETA_ type person but this seems cruel." He whispered it to the man who acted aloof, whispering back.

"I know what you mean. There are more humane ways to hunt an animal than this. The fox hasn't got a chance to escape much less use it's wiles that would naturally help it in the wild. They hound the poor thing and wound it before hand. Seems an unfair advantage." Heath looked disgusted at the scene and turned his head back, hazel eyes giving Neal a once over.

"It isn't safe to chat here but I had to be sure about your sympathies. Now I know." Heath smiled at him, holding out a hand. Neal took it and smiled back.

"You have a good poker face. Lucky I got out of the game last night with the little money I did win." He saw Heath smiled back at him with a grin.

"Years of practice. Used to do it professionally till I teamed up with Donne. We were in graduate school together. So I heard you were a Yale grad. I did my undergrad at Yale." Heath made a gesture, Neal going with it till they had done this secret handshake sort of motion, the other man laughing.

"By the way... call me Murray." Heath looked out the window again briefly, watching the men outside on horses and foot chasing the fox as the jeeps followed behind. Neal nodded.

"I'm Nicholaus but my friends call me Nick." He saw Heath nod at him moving in a bit closer to whisper.

"_Meet you in that cabin behind the lodge in three hours?_"

Neal nodded in reply as he moved back up to where Peter sat with Donviel, the latter having left the jeep to finally join the hunt.

"Anything?" Neal asked. Peter shook his head.

"No, but I'm supposed to have drinks with Donviel later tonight with a few other hunters before the actual hunt. What about you?" Peter tried to make a motion towards Heath without looking obvious. Neal nodded.

"Meeting him at the cabin behind the lodge. He has some information." Neal saw the lodge coming up in the distance as the jeeps headed back. Peter put a hand on his shoulder, a look of concern on his face.

"Just be careful."

**()()()**

It was after 3 pm when Neal was supposed to meet Heath at the cabin. The hunt had ended 3 hours earlier, a celebration lunch at the end of the event. Neal had gone for a few minutes as had Peter, hobnobbing a bit till Donviel grabbed Peter and snubbed Neal yet again. He was getting annoyed with the man but figured it must be an age thing. Neal made a trip back to their room to clean up, the door slightly ajar when he came down the hall. He tiptoed over and opened it as quietly as possible. He saw the room was a mess, drawers and suitcases open and strewn about. Neal glanced around but nobody was in the room. He closed the door and locked it, looking around for anything missing. Neal jumped slightly as his cell buzzed in his pocket, pulling it out and answering it.

"What's up?" Neal was putting stuff away, trying to figure out what the people had been looking for, phone to his ear. Peter answered back.

"_Have you met with Heath yet?_" Peter sounded like he was still at the main room of the lodge, background noise nearby. He must have stepped aside into a hallway or something.

"Not yet but someone was in our room. I found the door open and things moved around. I don't see anything missing... yet." He heard Peter curse, movement as the agent walked down the hall away from the noise. Neal realized what was going on.

"Peter, stay there. I can take care of this. Keep Donviel busy and I need to go meet Heath. Keep in touch." He heard Peter stop walking.

"_Ok, just be careful. If someone is searching our room, they must suspect something. I'll contact Jones._"

**()()()**

Peter hung up the cell and went back to talk to Donviel who was sitting with Alfred Donne and a couple of other hunters he had not yet been introduced to. Donviel waved him over.

"Jared, I'd like you to meet Alfred Donne, Jonathan Elkins and Derek Merson." Peter shook hands with them all, taking a seat near Donviel who smiled curiously at him.

"We were excited you were invited to the hunt tonight but wanted to see if you'd like to join us for a drink before hand." Donviel patted Peter on the back as he agreed, the five of them getting up to go to the bar.

The lot of them had at least one thing to say about their partners, not the ones currently in their presence but silent partners, that were off in another area of the lodge. They seemed to bask in their disdain for partners who seemed smarter, more educated and had more breaks than they'd had. Donviel made a comment about Neal, Peter perking up as he sipped at a glass of scotch.

"Nick? He's not a bad person. He can be a bit thoughtless at times and do things in ways I wouldn't approve of, but over all he's a good kid. I trust him with my business like nobody else." Peter spoke the truth, watching the others glance at one another as if unsure of something but Donviel put a hand around Peter and smiled.

"Well, my '_silent_' partner is now truly silent. Got rid of him recently. Just couldn't stand the man's elitist attitude. Just because I went to a Jr. College doesn't make me any less a business professional than his ivy league degree. I'm an entrepreneur. You don't have to be a rich kid from the Hamptons to succeed in that category. Everyone puts such stock in old money. Not every Harvard grad is a genius." The man's tone was filled with underlying envy and anger, something Peter wondered about as the others wholeheartedly agreed and they made a toast to ridding themselves of elitist associates.

**()()()**

Neal casually passed through the lodge after cleaning up their room. He tried to see if there were any clues to who would have trashed the place but found nothing. The only thing he found missing was a few toiletry items, mostly aftershave and cologne he had brought along. Neal didn't worry about it, making his way to a cabin outside the lodge and just beyond the woods. The door was slightly ajar when he approached, the one window boarded up. The hair on the back of his neck raised, a chill going down his spine making him reconsider the meeting. Neal pushed the door open further, the interior dark. He reached inside along the door and found a switch, a small bulb hanging in the middle of the ceiling filling the room with a dim glow.

"_Uhhhnnnnn..._" Someone groaned from the left where a large hearth sat, Neal turning to see Heath laying there, slumped inside the fireplace. The man was bound and gagged, his faced bloodied. Neal ran over and crouched beside the man, working on untying the wiry cord that bit into the man's wrists. He removed the tape from Heath's lips and pulled a rag out, trying to wake the man as he worked to free him.

"Murray... wake up. Who did this? Murray..." Neal heard a sound behind him and turned but the door had slammed shut as the lights went out. The room was pitch black, light footsteps moving near him. He tried to stand still, hold his breath to hide but someone jumped him from behind, the flash of something bluish white cracking near his face, the light blinding him for a moment. The taser hit him on the back of the neck, his body shuddering as he slumped. Neal tried to move but was held down in the darkness, arms pinned behind him as he was pressed face down on the floor, the rough floor rubbing against his cheek.

"Prey freeing prey... how quaint." The voice sounded familiar to Neal but he had no time to sort it out as something blunt hit him on the back of the head, everything going black.

**()()()**

Peter definitely had a buzz going on from the scotch. He tried not to get too involved with these men despite their trust in him. They were still suspects. Everyone was a suspect until proven otherwise and after the conversation Donviel had started about getting rid of partners, Peter had some doubts about this group.

He reluctantly followed them into the woods: Elkins, Merson and Donviel all seemingly drunker than himself. Donne had left a while ago for a call and had not shown up again. It was after 7 now and getting dark, the woods eerie looking as they tromped through towards what appeared to be a darkened cabin. Donviel grinned, looking drunkenly back at Peter.

"Jared... before the hunt begins, we have to initiate you. You have to answer some questions." Donviel's voice was slurring slightly, the man swaying as they approached the cabin. Peter wondered what was up with the cabin when Elkins spoke.

"Like the rest of us, you're not an ivy league brat. Nothing was handed to you on a silver platter." The man's voice was slurred slightly but his eyes burned feverishly. Peter nodded slightly unsure of the point of this questioning. He turned to Merson who seemed just as excited.

"Our prey is inside. We are the lucky ones who get a first hand view. Know its scent... its weaknesses..." The man sounded crazed, Peter trying to figure out what was going on when he caught a familiar scent. Neal's cologne. It was coming from the cabin. He cursed inwardly realizing this is where he must have been meeting with Heath. He wondered if the young man was still inside and worried till the man continued.

"Shhhh..." Merson slurred, opening the door and motioning Peter into the darkened room. They pushed him inside, blocking him as Peter resisted. He paused, hearing a slight scratching sound that made him think of wild animals when the light went on and he gave a loud intake of breath.

"Doesn't our prey look ready to run? This hunt will be an exciting one tonight. To each their own... right, Donne?" Donviel grinned, no longer looking as sane as he had. Peter felt sick, looking at the source of the scratching sound. He saw Neal unconscious on the floor, bound and gagged while Heath sat near him also tied, face bloodied and eyes glassy as he pulled at his bonds. A third man lay in the corner unmoving. Peter recognized him from the group of observers but had not been introduced to him. Elkins and Merson grinned.

"I don't believe you met our business associate, Aaron Paulson. Our weakest link..."


	4. Chapter 4

**(Chapter 4)**

Peter felt sick at the sight, wanting to check on Neal but knowing if he did these men might do anything. He heard the cocking of a pistol and turned to see Donne step inside and walk over with a rifle slung over his shoulder. He was smiling.

"I see you brought Simkins. So... shall we start the hunt? If any of them survive, they deserve an honorable death, like Terrance. He was a good game. Could have lasted a week if not for the unfortunate shot through the head." Donne smiled as he spoke. Peter wondered if Jones was picking this all up. He had contacted him after he had talked to Neal earlier. Most of the information had been hearsay and not enough to convict any of the men but now... well he hoped Jones and crew were coming in for the rescue.

"You're awfully quiet, Jared. We invited you specially. Your partner is a leech and not worth your time. Have fun with us and join the chase!" Donne spoke as if he were talking about a game of cards or bowling but these were human lives! Peter felt a chill as he saw the man point the rifle at Heath and take aim. Peter bumped the barrel causing the bullet to hit the wooden logs of the cabin wall. Donne frowned at him as did the rest of them, Elkins closing the door and locking it.

"That's not the way we play this game, Jared. You have to join us, unless you prefer to play the part of the prey and nobody has refused us, at least nobody who could tell. I don't think you would enjoy that very much." Donviel's voice was cold and unrelenting. He pulled a pistol from his pocket and handed it to Peter, Donne holding the rifle aimed on him.

"Just shoot Halden in the leg. That will make it so much easier to catch and release him for the hunt." Donne motioned with the rifle, Peter turning, pistol in hand as he saw the three figures bound there, Neal twitching slightly where he lay unconscious. Peter could feel their eyes on him, waiting, expectant but something else felt wrong. The room was turning warm, his brow beaded with sweat. He felt his hand shaking and the room sway. Someone took the gun from him and for some reason he couldn't resist.

"It's ok, Jared. We figured you liked your partner too much so we spiked your drink. You can join your friend after we have some fun with him. Shoot Halden, Alfred." Peter turned to see Donne with the rifle pointed at Neal and moved sluggishly to stop the shot. He heard the report of the rifle and felt a hot burning sensation in his shoulder as the bullet hit. Peter slumped to the floor, his body shuddering from the pain although it seemed as though whatever they had drugged him with was slightly dulling the burn to a throbbing beat. He felt himself panting, fighting for air. Donviel crouched over him.

"This could have been so much easier if you'd just cooperated. I really liked you. You're one of us but if you want to take the side of these children of influence, be my guest. You can _run_ with them all you like." Peter's vision was tunneling to black as he passed out.

**()()()**

Neal woke up in a cold sweat, his arms aching from where he hung from the rafters above. His feet barely touched the floor, also bound and spread enough he couldn't get comfortable. He swallowed despite the rag stuffed in his mouth, and tape pulled over his lips. Neal turned his head and saw Peter in the same condition hanging from the rafters near him, a large red stain on his white polo shirt. The agent didn't move, face pale, eyes sunken looking as Neal tried to make noise to get his attention. Peter's face twitched slightly after a moment but that was it. Neal could see no other reaction as he hung there, arms aching, hands numb from the wiry cord holding him in place. He gave a quick look around as much as he could, seeing the wooden logs of the cabin they were tied up in. The cabin was mostly bare except for one boarded window, an empty hearth, and a door across the room that was currently closed. The room was freezing, Neal's eyes returning to the hearth as he wished it was filled with a warm glow.

The cabin door swung open at some point, three men entering the cabin with masks. One of them saw Neal was awake and smiled. Neal shivered at the grin, knowing nothing good could come from it. He gave a muffled protest as the man approached, taser in hand. He cut the young man's shirt open and started to push the taser against his bare skin. Neal squirmed and thrashed, a muffled groan of agony coming from his throat. He turned despite the pain as the other two men approached Peter's unconscious form.

"Awwww... he's concerned for his friend. You should worry about yourself, Mr. Halden. You're about to become a part of the hunt. You'll feel the thrill of the prey; feel the terror as your heart races and your mind darts like the deer being pursued." The man's voice was cruel and dark, Neal blinking at him as he thought about the sickness in this man's mind. The man just smiled at him and tased him once again, Neal slumping more against his bonds. He was only vaguely aware of the other two men pulling Peter from the rafters and dragging him outside, his blue eyes following the scene.

"He'll be safe till we finish with you and send you both out into the field. Your secrets will be ours and you'll be free to be pursued by the hunter. It will be glorious!" The man raised Neal's face to his, his hand holding the young man's chin. Neal stared into those dark green eyes and made a muffled protest, glaring back. The man smiled.

"You just don't know when to give in, do you? I hate you Ivy League types. Think everyone owes you something." The man pulled out a syringe and Neal watched with wide-eyes as liquid squirted out of it.

"I should leave the bubbles, quicker that way but not as effective for talking." The voice of Donviel was full of contempt as he bared Neal's neck and pushed the needle in. Neal squirmed against the hold but the man was strong. The amber liquid entered his blood stream and slowly he felt a warmth wash over him as his body went slack. Once his body gave in he could feel a kind of unlocking of his thoughts as they free flowed and scattered about unfettered.

"Feeling happier, Mr. Halden? Maybe you'll want to talk to me about your company's inside stock before the hunt?" Donviel grasped Neal's chin in his gloved hand and lifted the young man's eyes to his own. Those deep blue orbs slowly turned black as the drug entered his system and began to dilate his eyes. The tape and rag were removed from his lips and Neal just smiled drunkenly at the man.

"Happy? This stuff is great! You should bottle it and sell it." Neal fought to control his thoughts but he wasn't able to think straight, his vision swimming in and out of focus.

"Mr. Halden, tell me about your company. Tell me all about Moriegan Tech." Donviel continued to hold the young man's chin in his hand tightly, Neal's eyes swimming in their sockets loosely. He grinned drunkenly at the man.

"Faaake. Nothing doing... you are a... chump!" Neal giggled, his voice starting to take on a sing songy nature as he began to actually sing a song.  
**  
"**_**Mais il est bien court Le temps des cerises  
Pendents de corail qu-on cueille revants**_

_**J'aimerai toujours Le temps des cerises  
C'est de ce temps la Que je garde au couer  
Une plaie ouverte**_**"**

Neal's accent wasn't bad but he sounded a wee bit too much like Maurice Chevalier or maybe Pepe Le Pew, Donviel rolling his eyes and realizing he wasn't going to get anything out of him. Neal just kept smiling and repeated the song over again till he passed out mid-sentence on the third go round.

"The others at least had something to give us, but this one was a loss. Perhaps Jared would give his secrets up for his life but I doubt it. What do you think Elkins?" Donviel saw the man glance over at him through his mask and shrug.

"He wasn't doing so good when I saw him last. Donne is tying him to a tree now. Where is Oppmeier? I thought he was going to join us." Elkins gave a little yawn, cutting Neal down, the young man hitting the wooden floor boards with a thud. Donviel nudged him with his foot but Neal didn't move.

"Darryl got a little greedy. He won't be seen anytime soon."

**()()()**

Jones heard everything, leaving a couple of agents to man the recorders while he took the others to infiltrate the lodge and get Peter and Neal out. The lodge was about to get an influx of ivy league grads to show them who was boss.

**()()()**

Peter woke up to a burning pain in his shoulder, his whole body shuddering with agony and cold chills. He felt weak, glancing down at his shirt which was clotted with blood. He tried to remember what happened and vaguely recalled trying to push a rifle away when it went off. Donne had shot him as he tried to block him from hurting Neal. He groaned, mouth full of rags and lips covered with tape. He looked around and saw he was tied to a tree, his arms hanging from overhead, weight pulling on his wounded shoulder more, warm blood making the stain on his shirt grow.

He didn't see Neal anywhere but he heard someone coming, footsteps crunching leaves and grass as he closed his eyes and feigned being unconscious. Voices were speaking in hushed voices.

"So how are we going to do this? We have to wait for them to wake up and let them run. No fun if they just lie there." It was Donne speaking, Peter wanting to have a few choice moments breaking that man's nose. He ground his teeth slightly at the next voice.

"We have all night if we have to. Everyone else is doing the regular hunting. They won't notice a few stray hunters off on their own." Donviel laughed the men moving away. Peter opened his eyes after a moment when he was sure they were gone to find Neal laying unconscious at his feet. The young man looked pale in the moonlight, eyes closed, face moving ever so slightly. Peter nudged Neal with his feet.

"_Mmmph... mmmph..._" He made a muffled sound trying to get the young man's attention. Finally Neal seemed to react, trying to roll away but not able to because his arms were bound behind him. Neal groaned softly, he was no longer gagged but his voice sounded slurred as he started to talk to no one in-particular. Peter blinked as he realized Neal was singing in what sounded like French. He nudged the young man with his foot again a little harder, hearing the young man protest.

"Quit kicking me already... I'm getting up!" Neal's voice was slurred, the young man rolling around slightly as he tried to rise despite his bound hands and feet. Finally he opened up his eyes and looked up at Peter who was staring down at him.

"Peter? Why are you hanging from a tree? You're not a monkey." Neal's voice sounded spacey and barely coherent as he blinked several times and started to sing in French again. Peter nudged him with his feet harder, the young man stopping and protesting yet again.

"Stop that! I'm perfectly so... ber." Neal managed to sit up finally, pulling something from his pocket and cutting his wrists loose as he slumped back against the tree and lay there a moment, panting and catching his breath. Peter made a muffled sound drawing the young man's attention up to him again.

"Hold on Peter... my head is throbbing." Neal lay there a moment before he struggled to his feet, cutting them loose when he realized they were also tied. He leaned on the tree and swayed dangerously as he reached out to cut Peter down. Peter hit the ground with a crunch of leaves and grass, his shoulder hurting him more when he landed on it. Neal crouched beside him blue eyes a bit more focused.

"Peter, answer me!" Neal removed the tape and rags and Peter coughed.

"Neal, we need to contact Jones. He should be here by now. I contacted him before I went back to drink with Donviel and company." Peter's voice was raspy and quiet. He felt a bit off, the loss of blood keeping him from moving much. Neal reached into his pocket but his phone was missing. He started to dig into Peter's pockets but no phone. Dammit! All they had was the hope that the receiver was still sending out.

"Peter? Stay with me." Neal lifted his friend up in a fireman's carry and started to move when he heard a disturbing sound: hunting dogs howling nearby. Crap he thought as his head started to clear a bit and he dragged his friend through the dark woods. Peter shifted against him ever so slightly, breath panting.

"Neal..." Peter's voice cut off as he slumped against him, Neal turning to see his friend had passed out. He stopped a moment to check Peter's vitals. The agent was breathing although a bit shallow, skin cool to the touch but he had a strong pulse and heartbeat. Neal pulled off his jacket and removed his shirt, putting his jacket back on over his black tee and tearing the shirt into strips as he tried to make a covering for the gunshot wound. Peter moved ever so slightly, but he was unconscious. Finally Neal had wrapped the wound securely when he heard a gunshot hit the tree branch overhead.

"Come out come out wherever you are!" The voice was Donviel's, Neal lifting Peter up again and taking off as quietly and quickly as he could in the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

**(Chapter 5)**

Memories of a similar incident flooded Neal's still drug-hazed mind.  
_  
"__**Come on out, Terry! We want to see our scared little deer!**__" Neal could hear Androv's mocking voice within the maze, the sound of a rifle being cocked, was echoing throughout._

Neal started to run faster, carrying Peter nearly piggy back at some point. Adrenaline kept him going for now and fear as he heard the dogs in the background and the sound of men in pursuit on horseback and foot. It was luck when he found the abandoned deer blind and ducked inside hoping for a moment's relief. It was moldy and smelled less than friendly but it would hide them for a bit.

"Where did they go? I know they came this way. They couldn't have just vanished into thin air!" Neal held his breath and was glad when he realized the dogs were in the distance which meant they weren't part of this hunting group. Dogs would have found them for sure but men, he could hide from men given half the chance. It's what made him a successful con and thief.

"Double back and let's take all possible directions." Neal heard someone cocking a rifle or gun and started slightly without making a noise but he was scared, fear keeping him alert for now. The sounds left and finally they were alone. He checked Peter again who was still unconscious, pulse and heartbeat still strong, his breath shallow but evident. He brushed some hair from his friend's face and removed his jacket and pushed it under Peter's head as he curled up beside him and hoped for a few minutes of rest. Jones should be able to track them with the mini-tracker on their collars. That was still in place.

**()()()**

Neal woke up to the sound of a gun cocking overhead. He roused himself with some effort looking up to see a blurry shadow through the top of the deer blind. It was Donviel. Neal pushed Peter out of the way, as he rolled away hearing a report of a shotgun and feeling a burning as it hit him on the side of the head, the spray missing Peter as Neal slumped. He groaned in pain, a laugh from Donviel as he pushed through the top of the blind and pulled Neal out and through the hole.

"Trying to outsmart someone who grew up on the streets. Can't outsmart a con, rich boy." Donviel grimaced at Neal, the young man feeling himself fading from the pain, his adrenaline fading as exhaustion took over. He heard the crunch of feet from nearby and looked across the man's shoulder to see more figures in black. They had bright yellow letters on their coats he could just make out as he tried to read them in his half-daze.

"F... B... I... ?" Neal slurred, looking at Donviel who turned and saw Jones and company standing there.

"**FBI! PUT YOUR WEAPON DOWN!**" Jones yelled as the man looked shocked, his green eyes turning back to Neal. Neal just smiled slightly, holding Donviel's wallet in his hand for the man to see.

"You were saying something about fooling a con?" Neal's blue eyes, still a bit too black, glittered a moment before they rolled back in his head as he slumped into unconsciousness.

**()()()**

Neal woke up to the sound of a ringing in his ears, the blood rushing through his temples as the pain came back to him. He moved slightly, feeling himself tucked under warm blankets, a soft pillow under his head. He woke up to find himself back in the lodge laying in one of the beds. He shifted to look around and saw another figure in another bed across from him. It was Peter. He tried to sit up but his body refused to react, a crinkling sound as he moved his head. He reached up and touched his head to find it had been wrapped in bandages. Neal coughed, looking around.

"Yes sir, the lodge doctor treated them and we'll be shipping them back by ambulance soon as it arrives. Tell Elizabeth we'll meet her at the hospital." Jones' voice was muffled outside the suite door. Neal turned towards it as the door opened and Jones came inside. The agent turned and blinked at Neal.

"Neal. Just talked to Hughes. We're going to transport the both of you by ambulance soon. Everything's been taken care of. Donviel and the rest of them were arrested." Jones walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. Neal nodded, looking across at Peter without saying anything. Jones put a comforting hand on Neal's shoulder.

"Peter's doing better. He lost a lot of blood but the doctor here said he should be ok once we get him to a hospital. He's on an IV drip now. They keep them for the more serious hunting injuries. He's stable." Jones smiled down at Neal who nodded sleepily. He wanted to talk but he was too tired, his body giving into his injuries and what was left of the drug in his system.

**()()()**

_**Man's voice:**__ How many days has it been?_

_**Woman's voice:**__ Three._

_**Man's voice:**__ He must have been exhausted to sleep that long._

_**Woman's voice:**__ Yes, he wore himself out. He did carry you didn't he?_

_**Man's voice:**__ I guess so. I hope he wakes up soon._

Neal listened to the voices banter back and forth before he finally woke up and opened his eyes looking around. He found himself in a bland little hospital room alone. He peered around finding remnants that someone had been there, a coffee cup sitting on the nightstand. He glanced at it and then turned when he heard the quiet sound of a door opening.

"Shhhh... he's going to wake up if you make that much noise, Peter." The voice sounded familiar, Neal recognizing it as that of Elizabeth Burke. There was a quiet squeaking sound of wheels which he saw was a wheelchair being pulled into the room as she backed in. He could make out a figure in the chair as she turned and entered.

"He's already awake, honey." Elizabeth smiled as she saw Neal staring at her. Peter perked up and glanced at his friend his lips curving into a relieved smile. The agent still looked pale but his color seemed to be returning and other than his arm being in a sling, he looked better. Neal smiled back.

"Hey partner, you finally woke up." Peter let El wheel him closer, reaching out a hand to Neal.

"Pe... ter." Neal coughed, his throat a bit hoarse. He saw El walk over and pour him a glass of water, moving closer to help him sit up and drink it. He smiled at her as he finished the glass and she hugged him gently, planting a kiss on his forehead.

"We're glad to see you awake. Peter woke up two days ago worried sick about you." She moved back to her husband and hugged him from behind, the two clasping hands. Neal smiled and nodded.

"I guess you're the ones I heard talking in my sleep." He shifted slightly trying to get a bit more comfy as he sat up ever so slightly. El moved over and fussed over him and fluffed his pillows up behind him. Peter made a face behind her back that made Neal laugh, El turning and seeing Peter looking innocent.

"He's making faces isn't he? He's a terrible patient even though I was fussing over him to be sure he behaved." El wasn't really annoyed, just concerned as she did her best to make Neal comfy. He smiled appreciatively.

"Peter, behave... I'm going to go let the doctor know Neal's awake." She smiled at them both and left the room. Peter pushed himself up and moved over to the chair nearest the bed and plopped down into it. He looked tired, looking up at Neal as he leaned back against the chair.

"You took a big chance running from those men. Thanks Neal. Jones said the information we collected through the wire is more than enough to put them all away for a long long time." Peter patted the young man on the arm with his good hand. Neal's expression was relieved with a hint of worry.

"I keep thinking about Heath. They used him as bait. Treated both of us like that fox we saw at the hunt during the day." Neal's voice sounded hollow, his eyes showing a glimmer of fear from the memory. Peter nodded with a grim expression.

"There were three of you in that cabin when they tried to initiate me into the hunt. Heath and the others were gone by the time we ran but Jones said they were found by the regular hunting party. The men were suffering from exposure and some minor wounds... well physically they should heal." Peter saw Neal's expression change to relief.

"I'm glad. Heath is a good man. I didn't talk to him long but I got the impression he wasn't the typical hard-nosed business man. He had a heart. Can't say the same for Donviel if he's so concerned with someone's background and school affiliation." Neal leaned back, eyes staring up at the ceiling. They sat there in silence a moment, the doctor coming in with Elizabeth.

"I see Mr. Caffrey woke up. How do you feel?" The physician listened to his heart, lungs and checked his pulse. She checked his eyes and temperature as well as his head injury.

"Everything's healing well. You'll be out of here in no time." She smiled at him, El and Peter before leaving them alone. El excused herself to get a cup of coffee. Peter nudged Neal who had started staring at the ceiling again.

"So, what was it you were singing in French?" Peter was grinning slightly, Neal blinking at him.

"French? When did I sing in French? I don't remember much after I found Heath. Kind of hazy." Neal blinked again, a thoughtful look falling over his face as he tried to remember.

"French... wow... only song I know in French is some old Edith Piaf song. Something about cherries." Neal shrugged, humming to himself suddenly. Peter touched his hand and made a "_ah ha!_" sort of sound.

"Whatever you're humming now... that's what you were singing! Much as I wasn't myself, I somehow recall that song. Can't get it out of my head!" Peter rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly in mock irritation. Neal started to hum a bit louder, words forming as he grinned at Peter.

"Stop it, Neal. Geesh! You sound like Pepe LePew!" Peter sounded annoyed, turning as the door opened and El walked back in looking between the two and listening to Neal sing. She clapped.

"Wow, such talent. I always wanted to learn French but my folks made me take Spanish."

Elizabeth placed a cup of coffee in Peter's hand and he smiled, distracted by the brew.

"You pick things up when you're on the continent." Neal sounded a bit proud. Peter muttered quietly between sips.

"Like pockets?" Peter saw Neal blink at the comment, El slapping him on the back of the head. He oofed.

"Be nice honey. Neal has a lovely voice. You should sing more." She hugged Neal who stuck his tongue out at Peter.

"Don't encourage him, El. Please..."

**(The end!)**


End file.
